Imprisoned
by Rhinestone99
Summary: The great king has fallen...and old memories still haunt him. Can he rise again? A short story of Ganondorf's time in the Sacred Realm. *spoiler warning* Which games? All of them.
1. The Sentence

**Author's Note: **

**So I'm trying to connect to my characters for my story, and I thought that I should probably get to know Ganondorf a little better before I start really getting into the main story. Enjoy! **

******(and I've edited it - for some reason it skipped over some parts I'd written...yah, I dunno, but it's fixed now!) **

_It's dark. _

_Light..._

_By the Winds..._

_I've forgotten. _

The King stared at nothing, held by nothing. Everything _was_ nothing. Black was everything...except...

This feeling. It was a familiar one, as familiar as a mother's hand.

(Did he even have a mother?)

But this feeling made him small. It made him feel weak; helpless like an infant. He felt like a child. He felt like a child in a dark place, fighting off monsters and demons and anything his imagination could conjure — except he could not tell if these things came from himself, or...elsewhere.

He felt pain, a small, sharp pain in his chest, as if in the place of his heart an empty black hole had settled there, pulling, dragging his body in and trying to concave in on itself.

He could not trust his own body in this dark.

Another childish feeling settled over him in an icy, choking mist. One of abandonment. His gods had neglected him. Yes, he remembered them, at least, but those memories... They couldn't really be his, could they? Too...distant. Too vague, but distinct. The pain they caused felt real enough, at least.

A woman's face suddenly appeared; it drifted along the hems of memory, a hazing image like the lights and colors that danced beneath your eyelids after looking at the sun. She resembled the star in a way... Radiant, beautiful, and blinding. He could barely look directly at this lithe figure.

_Hylia _The name came with a soft hiss out of the darkness.

Ah, his tormentor. His warden.

The goddess looked back at him, long strands of golden hair flowing in a lazy breeze, and silken dress billowing out behind her like liquid pearls. Her eyes glared like cold diamonds; the open sky staring back at him, devoid of any feeling. It looked so unnatural, this coldness in them.

It was odd, but he began to see flaws in this sublime deity. The edges of her hem were tattered and black with smoke, her face was covered in ash, and a small trail of blood, goldish red like the setting sun, ran from the corners of her lips. She carried herself unsteadily and took in short breaths as if exhausted. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen that before...

The goddess lifted a short sword skyward, and he had to shield his eyes from the glaring light that shot forth like a beam.

"DEMISE!" She shouted. It was as if someone had dropped into a pool of ice. His limbs froze and the air abandoned him in a gasp. If he could move, he would be trembling. Her eyes blazed through him with murderous intent. "For your crimes against this world, for your blasphemy against the gods, and for your sacrilege," she spat, her voice like beautiful, silver knives ripping away at his very essence. "I sentence you to your kingdom." She opened those soft, pink lips in a deep breath, and he could have sworn, for a second, a silent, desperate plea soften those diamonds.

He couldn't breathe, let alone speak. This wasn't right. She was mistaken! He never...all he wanted... Then the diamonds hardened into something that defied the very likes of reality. It was something more than hatred, more than simple vengeance. He didn't think a look like that had a name.

"I DELIVER YOU TO HELL!"

NO! He wanted to scream, but it was too late. He felt the darkness, the black that had lurked around the edges of his vision, rain down upon him in an endless wave of ebony. He couldn't even scream as it crashed into him, and dragged him down, down, down...

**Author's Note:**

**I'm not sure if I want to continue this or not, but I've got some more ideas... it's going to be iffy, anyways. Feel free to leave a comment! **


	2. Four Swords and Dark Places

**Author's Note:**

**Hey guys, I'm back! This one's a bit short, but hope you like!**

A slash...

Another,

another,

another...

White fire blazed wherever it struck, and it struck everywhere. He could barely feel anything but this blinding pain.

The king held up his arms, but the blades rained down on him mercilessly.

By the gods, if he could only see!

The blackness had enveloped him, leaving him with nothing but pain and a question of whether he even had a body anymore. If he had one, it... felt...different. It felt heavier, slower, as if gravity's pull had increased by ten times. It was by no means a comforting feeling. He found it quite disturbing, actually.

He screamed as white-fire cut deep into his sternum, and his large, heavy feet stumbled backwards. Not until moments later did he realize his screams weren't his — they couldn't be. He couldn't roar.  
He shook his head and snorted —

(_what!?_)

in confusion. What was going on? He would rather face Hylia again than endure this... Another blade sliced into his arm and he _roared_ in anger and lashed out in a wide-spread sweep. He mentally startled when he felt his monstrous arm collide into something — or rather, four little pudgy somethings.

He snorted again and backed away. What on earth could those things be? Somethings that little couldn't possibly hurt him so much, could they? Did he hit something he wasn't supposed too? The king shook his head, trying to shake away his bemusement like a dog shakes away his flees.

His ears flicked and alarm bells pinged shrilly in his head, but before he could react, a searing, burning, ripping pain exploded in front of him.

By the time he regained sense through all the white, he began to feel the rawness of his throat. Something screamed terribly in the distance, a beastly, hideous shriek of a dying animal. It almost sounded like a squealing pig of all things...

His body felt different again, but...less heavy. It felt like it might have a few pieces missing, actually... That couldn't be right...

_Goddesses help me..._ he prayed through the pain-induced tears.

He felt wet all over, cold too, and getting colder by the minute.

He had died, hadn't he?

As if in reply, he heard a sharp cry, one of a young boy no less, and something plunged into his chest. Death should have come swiftly, but by some cruel twist of fate, he felt _everything_. The squealing came back, and his throat felt on fire, but that amassed to the rest was nothing.

He heard talking in the distance of young voices, and finally, blackness came. He welcomed it this time.

**Author's Note:**

**Geez, video games are violent, aren't they? I'm going to have to change the rating now... '-_-**

**If you guys haven't already figured it out, I'm writing out all of Ganondorf's deaths. I'll try to keep it in chronological order, but... eh, we'll see. :) **


	3. New Hope

**Disclaimer: Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo **

**Author's Note:**

**Hmm...remember when I said chronological order? Welp. I lied. So much for being a true Zelda geek. XD **

**Let me spell this out for you guys: ****_creative license. _****I am well aware of how many hard-core OoT fans there are, and that's cool, just please don't enlighten me on the many details of the ****FINAL BATTLE**** (****_spoiler warning)_****, K? **

**Great. **

**Let's roll. **

So, it was the boy.

The king glared down at the young man before him, wondering _how_ and more importantly _why_.

He felt his rigid body and tried to relax. Something told him that a battle was coming (more like slaughter) and some old, buried alive instinct instructed him to loosen up.

The boy looked tense as well, but mostly _angry_. Those deep water-blue eyes flashed at him as if he was the bane of the world.

What had he done? Why did these people hate him so that they would murder him? What did he do!?

His voice had long since left him, so it's not like he could defend himself. He could only wait, in this prison of his body, as the onslaught came. Eventually the darkness would take him back and hurdle him to some other torture. So he could die. Again, and again, and again. He shifted nervously and glanced about his peripherals, where he knew the darkness lurked in wait.

Maybe he could win this time. He could see, and he could easily overpower a mere boy. Of course.

The king stood a little taller and let that hope settle. He would win this, and since this boy was so ill-bent on his destruction, he would return the favor. He looked about the chamber appraisingly. Tall windows, a nice roaring fire, even a large organ sitting in the corner. Strangely though, above the organ, a large, pink crystal floated in midair. A curious thing... Nevertheless, he could stay here. This place he would fight for.

That instinct returned and he obliged easily. His hand came up, palm faced out toward the boy, and quick as lighting a bright ball of sizzling light burst from his hand. The king startled a little at the sheer force and speed of the magic, and watched it hurdle at the boy like a missile. The little warrior's eyes widened, but only a little as if he'd seen the same trick before, and like a little monkey the green-clad boy leapt out of the magic's wrath. It just grazed his shoulder, and the boy grimaced at the sting making a small hiss through his teeth that the following collision of magic and stone completely drowned out. Louder than a crack of thunder and setting the air on fire, the incredible sound must have reached the ears of anyone within five miles of this place. The king raised his eyebrows and wobbled slightly as the entire building shook from the impact. The sound still rang in his ears, and he could only glance between the newly formed, smoking crater and his very destructive hands.

Well...that' was unexpected.

...He could work with it.

The king grinned for what felt like the first time in eons. He actually had the advantage... he could hardly believe it. He chuckled, pleased with the warm, happy, non-pain induced sound that came out.

Well, if that little cretin wanted to fight, so be it!

He raised both his hands outspread and directed them at the boy, attempting to mask his pain and trying to hold his sword steadily. He looked mad, but the king couldn't help but notice that a lot of the boy's ire seemed directed inward. He crinkled his nose slightly at the smell of blood and burnt flesh and paused, suddenly questioning the point of all this. He had no qualms with this boy. Could he really just obliterate this youth without a second thought?

The elder furrowed his brow. Would he pay for mercy? He knew the consequences... he couldn't live through this hell forever, and it's not like he'd attacked anyone without obligation. How could he expect — how could anyone expect him to just sit there and let this demented child skewer him over and over? No. Not again.

Still...it just...

He narrowed his eyes scrutinizingly at the boy. He saw only hatred and vengeance in those eyes, of the same hatred he saw in Hylia's, only not so... unadulterated. He mentally shivered.

So be it then...

He hardened his resolve and called forth the power. This time he actually felt the energy in his palms, crackling excitedly underneath the skin. He fired.

He watched as if in slow motion as the boy dodged the first, but had involuntarily dove right into the second. The elder thought that look of mortal fear would be the last thing he would see of the boy, but the child pulled something unexpected and remarkably stupid. He shielded himself with his long sword, obviously an instinctual response more than anything, and braced himself in the split-second of time he had. The giant, crackling mass of electricity hit the sword head on, the chords of light branching up the steel like wild snakes, but only the metal. The force of it knocked the young man's broad frame with a loud smack into the wall, but other than this his opponent appeared quite, impossibly, unharmed.

Time played normally again and the king could only gape as the first ball of magic cratered the wall about a yard's length from where the boy stood.

He could not believe it.

The metal should have made it worse' of all things. It should not have conducted it like that... It went against the very laws of physics...unless... He narrowed his eyes at the sword. It definitely had an unusual look about it, and...it looked so familiar. He couldn't put his finger on it though... The amethyst hilt wrapped in teal bandages, the winged guard, and an uncannily familiar symbol of three triangles imprinted into the bottom of the blade. He felt a little sick looking at the weapon for some reason and fought the urge to look away from it entirely. It must have magic properties, but if that were true...

The boy pushed himself off the wall roughly and gripped the still crackling sword. Those blue eyes steeled themselves and he pulled the sword back, almost like a batter might, and swung with all the force his young shoulders could muster.

The energy flew from the blade like water of a slick, and condensed back into a ball-shaped, crackling wad of chaos.

The king gasped and tried to leap out of the way, but his body lacked the agility. The magic hit him flat in the chest.

All went white in a sea of pain, and his body jerked and convulsed rapidly, his heart pounding to escape his chest. He heard more distant screams...

To his surprise, he regained consciousness.

He opened his eyes and was immediately greeted with a searing migraine, but still; he lived. The king groaned and rolled himself over onto his stomach. A few random spasms racked through his body and he was left with a nauseous, sore feeling of having been cooked inside out. He got onto his elbows and pushed up shakily to his feet, looking somewhat frantically about, half expecting the darkness to come and consume him, or the boy to leap out and skewer him with that accursed sword.

No such thing happened.

The king sighed, partly in relief, and partly in an attempt to calm his staggering heart.

That just happened.

He looked around again, just to make sure, and stumbled to his feet. He shook his head and tried to reorient himself, snorting through his snout.

He swore an oath. (inwardly, of course)

Closing his eyes the king took a deep breath — that sounded distinctly hog-like— and looked down.

He almost screamed, but managed with a startled curse.

His hands...his feet... everything looked twisted and gnarled like old bark — not to mention so 'hairy. He had become a giant, walking sack of leather. And this time he could see it.

He shook his mane and grumbled thunderously in irritation and distress.

Why a pig of all things? Some sort of joke Hylia concocted? Some message from a past life? He didn't know, and frankly did not care. He did care to stay here though, since that little pest had left. He began thinking somewhat deliriously that he could live out his life as a giant pig in this castle. People would likely leave him alone ...a monster.

— A sudden tremble from the ground interrupted his train of thought.

He looked down at the shaking ground, his ears laid back warily until a small crack of stone made one flicker alertedly. He jerked back away from the sound and stared at the newly formed fissures darting along the tiled floor in a rapidly increasing session. Soon a whole cacophony of diminishing stone rang out, and large, intricate spider web patterns branched out along the floor and ceiling.

He thought a profanity just as the entire building gave way, and the floor crumpled beneath him, sending him falling ten stories down and burying him in rubble.

He landed with a harsh grunt and startled as debris began to crash on top of him. He grimaced with each stone that landed, adding to the tons already mount on him, until finally all fell still. He tasted blood in his mouth, and warmth ran down his eyes from a stinging, deep cut on his forehead. He wouldn't even address the rest of his ailments. He just wanted to lie there, and never move again.

His ears caught the sound of voices, one which he recognized all too well. A shiver of acrimony raced down his spine and a fury swept over his vision, sweeping it with blood red. He snarled at the boy's voice that taunted his hell. He would have no more!

With a beastly, howling roar that shattered the air, the king broke free of the rubble, detritus flying out like an explosion, and leaving a cloud of white sediment as thick as smoke. The great king, now a dark, looming shadow in the smog, took low, heaving pants, and with a shaky sigh carefully shook as much debris off as possible without irritating his wounds. He trembled so terribly that he could hardly see straight; whether of anger, fear, or exhaustion, he had no idea, but he knew one thing.

His eyes locked onto the object of his torment, and with a ripping, feral howl of rage, he charged head on like a great, stampeding bull.

The boy, still squinting his eyes from all the dust, let out a short gasp at the alarmingly fast growing form, and grabbing a girl beside him, he hurtled them both out of harm's way. The young woman let out a terrified shriek as they crashed into the ground beside them.

As the dust settled on the ruins of the once magnificent structure, and the pale moon peered its way through the smog, the king, having run into the center of a small opening in the debris, snorted and huffed heaving breaths with his new, giant pair of lungs. His monstrous form, even bent over with numerous wounds and taking in rattling breaths, was a terrifying sight to behold. The beast found the boy and the girl standing near a large slab of stone that had likely once been an arched ceiling, and he bared his pointed teeth in a snarl.

The boy's own lip curled in a mixture of hate and disgust, but a trickle of fear had leaked into those sapphire eyes that had not gone unnoticed by the king.

He glared down murderously at the small boy, now nothing more than a tiny green speck with a toothpick for a sword far below. Both of the couple had to crane their necks up to meet his two, dark, crimson eyes, and he could practically feel the silent dread 'dripping off them.

He threw his head back and another roar ripped from his throat, only for the sake of releasing all the emotions and feelings churning inside, and he was surprised by vehemency behind it. The woman clasped her hands to her ears in attempt to cover up the terrible sound, grimacing, and the boy took an unconscious step back and turned away.

The king relaxed his stance and haunched his shoulders loosely like a great cat ready to prowl. The boy looked fearfully between the girl and the beast, and seeming to find something in the girl's face, he gritted his teeth and straightened. The boy unsheathed his sword, an unnatural, ringing sound following, and widened his stance.

Those blue eyes stared up into the king's fiercely, all traces of the previous fear gone.

The king pulled out two, long, curled knifes the size of castle turrets and slammed down without hesitation. The boy practically soured out of the way, but the king would not let up there. He sliced mercilessly at the ground with deadly efficiency, the massive daggers becoming nothing but blurs of steel. It became a long, dangerous dance. The boy ran up to his heels and sliced above the hooves until a dagger or a giant hoof twice the sized of a draft horse stomped down. The elder found himself frustrated with the whole ordeal in general. The boy was like a little ant, scurrying about his heels and biting whenever the chance offered itself. The king had to act quickly if he wanted to continue using his legs.

He waited for the right moment and just when the boy thought he had it in the run, the beast brought one colossal blade down right in front of the pest, stopping the boy in his tracks with a great wall of steel. He heard the startled cry that ensued, and before the boy could react, the great beast slammed the other blade into the earth, trapping his prey in a barricade of curved metal. The boy stumbled back from the force of the second collision, and tripped with a sharp cry of horror.

The king smiled triumphantly as the boy - too late - tried to scramble to his feet. The giant raised one moonlit fist high into the air, and without another thought, slammed down.

**Whew, hope that made up for the last short. **

**Oh no! What's this? A cliffhanger? **

**Makes you wonder what turn I'll take huh? In the "Hyrule Historia" there were three ways this could go... Mwahahaha! **

**I'll have part 2 up in a while, don't worry. **

**And I have a question: Am I sucking right now? I honestly don't know what you guys are thinking, and if I'm not doing so good I can just keep it to myself or something rather than bother you guys... idk, I guess I'm stuck in that moment where your teacher has yet to bring back that report you thought you did so well on, and then... wammo! Look at that stellar C-! I can't wait to show that to ma! **

**Man, I hate that, who's with me?**


	4. New Hope: Part 2

**Author's Note: **

**Meh...feeling kinda iffy on this one. Ah well. **

He heard the woman scream behind him, shrill, horrified, and panicked.

Again, he wondered the point of all this, but he still had his conviction; he still felt indignant and scared beyond belief; and he could not say that ridding himself of this boy wasn't satisfying; but before his fist actually hit the ground he felt a sharp, incessant tug on his mane. He snarled furiously and turned to see a small, blue orb of light yanking with all its might on his scarlet coils of hair. He growled dangerously and snapped at its little form. The thing let out a small, feminine squeak, but only refused to let go and only pulled harder. He hissed in pain and with a wave of his hand knocked it away, sending the tiny creature flying.

"Navi!" The boy shouted, redirecting the king's attention.

The way the boy shouted, so hurt and sharpened with fear; made him feel a little guilty. It's not like he hit the creature hard... of course he may have just as easily killed it anyways...

A sharp stab of white pain at his heels chased away any lingering remorse, however. He made a low, graveling sound from the back of his throat and snatched at the green-clad boy with surprising speed. The tip of green cloak snagged on a long, gnarled claw and the king clamped down with the other hand before the child could slip away. A sharp cry came from his clasped hands and the king allowed a small, twisted smile. All it would take now would be a quick squeeze and every bone in this little pest's body would be nothing but dust in his hands. Thwarted again, a sharp, stabbing pain in his palm kept him from doing just that. He gritted his teeth and quickly making a small opening in one hand; he then grabbed a pint-sized ankle . The child's hat flew off and he watched as the tiny figure struggled fruitlessly against his grip with a look that might have killed and buried him twice over. He chuckled a bit at the boy's funny little predicament, but stopped when his eyes caught a flash of silver. The blade missed— barely —taking out his eyes. He growled and ripped the strange blade away from the boy, and he cried out in pain. The blade felt like fire! Magic indeed... He threw the burning metal haphazardly away with a roar of pain, barely catching a startled cry a few yards away from him.

He looked where the cry had come from and saw the sword had landed near the girl...whom he now noticed was working on a little spell as fast as any young sorceress could.

The king straightened and narrowed his eyes, shaking away the remnants of burning pain in his hand.

Something in him recognized those symbols so hastily drawn in the dirt. A paralyzes spell. He grunted irritably and snorted. She nearly got away with that too...

He eyes and let that instinct take over again. He felt a strange "whooshing" feeling like a breeze, but expanding from him like a giant bubble. He recognized the odd hue around the edges of the rubble as a shield — a big one that excluded both the girl and the blade.

The young sorceress had the most priceless look on her face at that moment. She looked from her useless spell to the barrier to the boy and leapt to her feet.

"LINK! GET AWAY FROM HIM!" she screamed, looking somewhere between furious, distraught, and horrified all at once.

The boy looked incredulously at the young sorcerous.

"WHAT THE HECK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!?" He roared back, his face now a deep shade of plum from the blood rushing to his head.

The king raised an eyebrow at the exchange, but it didn't change the fact he wanted to kill this little son of a —

"JUST DO SOMETHING!"

He frowned and pondered if he should just drop the boy, or throw him, or crush him... He'd never actually killed anyone before...

(Have I?)

Just when he'd decided on snapping the boy's neck (more of a mercy than the little demon deserved), the boy fisted for something in his bag and yanked out a handful of dark, shiny objects the looked somewhat looked like marbles. Before the king could even contemplate a second thought, the boy threw the dark objects right into his eyes.

A myriad of white flashes spotted his vision and what felt like a thousand jagged needles shooting through his eyeballs and to the back of his head ensued. The beast flung the boy away and let out a screeching howl of agony, clutching his eyes and praying for relief.

The pain felt like popping acid, and it was all the beast could do to keep from screaming at the top of his lungs.

Deku nuts. The little...

He rubbed at his eyes incessantly, knowing it had to go away eventually.

When it finally did, the king felt a sort of dark rage bubble over him and make his fingertips tingle and his ears roar. He snarled and scoured the ground with murder in his blood-shot eyes, and found his pest in a small, green heap nearly thirty yards away. He growled and gnashed his teeth, hoping beyond hope that boy had died in the fall. The king stalked in great, wide, earth-shaking steps to the boy, and a few feet away the boy stirred — to his great disappointment and anger.

"Why don't you just die?" He snarled, surprising himself.

(words!)

Two blue eyes glared up from below and the boy coughed, sending a slew of red onto the ground.

Internal bleeding, huh? The boy was practically dead already then.

"...Because I..." The boy grimaced and tried to stand, but the pain seemed to much for him. The king almost pitied the child. "I...made a promise." He finished hoarsely.

A promise to kill me?' The king thought angrily. He wanted to hit the brat. He didn't do anything!

"HEY!" The king looked over his shoulder in alarm to find the sorceress — inside the barrier. He stepped back away. How did she — he'd stepped out of the shield. He swore an oath. Two icy blue eyes stared up and she held out her hands. He tried to stop her before it was too late but the spell had already begun to take effect. A blinding ray of golden light shot forth from her out-faced palms and he felt his limbs freeze up. He suddenly felt very cold, and it had nothing to do with the spell or the night air.

He fought against his binds as that instinct rode over and hastily unraveled the ties of magic as fast as it could, but it felt like days. He stared wide-eyed, stuck in time, and absolutely helpless before his enemy once again.

He noticed the sorceress had a familiar blue orb resting on her shoulder, its light flickering weakly, but surely alive. He honestly didn't know how he felt about that, but he knew — and she did too — that she could not hold him forever. Already he saw a bead of sweat trail off the end of her nose, and a sliver of panic snake into her eyes.

"Link, I need you to get your sword, I can't pick it up!" She called hurriedly, with a sharp note of strain lacing every word. "Please!" she cried out.

The fairy dashed over to the boy saying something in an urgent, tinkling voice and tugged on his hair a little. The boy, obviously, was doing all in his power to merely stand, let alone get that sword.

So close, the king thought hysterically. The sword was less than ten feet away, it's purple hilt gleaming wickedly in the moonlight. He didn't know if he could break free before the boy managed to get to his feet, and the young sorceress was stronger than he would have thought possible. He began to feel the tips of his fingers, and with that wondrous hope sparked in his chest. The girl grunted sharply and tried to strengthen the spell even further, but it did little good. It was beginning to unravel at the seams, and the girl knew it.

"LINK!" she screamed. The girl was nearly to her knees from the weight of the king, and her arms had begun to tremble from effort. She wouldn't last much longer...just a little more...

Impossibly, the boy had grabbed his sword, having practically crawled to it, and even though at this rate the child had little chance, it still made the king uneasy to see the weapon in those very capable hands.

The boy whispered something and nodded to himself just as the beast pulled away another inch, enticing another cry from the girl.

"Navi..." he whispered. "I need you to share with me..."

"I don't know if I can, Link..." The fairy really didn't look much up to anything, fairing half as well as her partner. He looked at her urgently and gritted his teeth.

"Navi, there's no way I'll make it in time if you don't!" The fairy wilted in defeat.

"...I'll do what I can."

From nowhere it seemed the boy had called forth a surplus of energy. His small form lifted the sword and charged towards the king, Hylia's ire written in his eyes as he closed the distance and swiped. The king's knees gave way and the familiar white pain ignited his heels. He went down with the knowledge he had been seconds away from victory.

He landed with a heavy thud, and the pain of the sword's bite evaporated the instinct and his focus. The sorceress now pulled the reigns tighter than ever, but it was pointless. He'd lost. He looked up to meet those merciless blue eyes cold with unbidden vengeance, and saw the white-fanged sword come down on his head.

The last thing he saw before the darkness swept him away was the boy collapse in front of him. Somehow, he doubted the child had died.

**Author's Note:**

**Welp. What did you think? I know Navi appeared to have popped out of nowhere, but she was with Zelda the whole time - literally in her sleeve. Navi can't stay outside the forest too long...she was getting weaker by the minute. She couldn't - or rather shouldn't have been a part of the battle at all, but the little sprite is a stubborn thing. (: As for "sharing" I may get more into that in my story... It's a little complicated. **


End file.
